A Time To Remember
by ForzeOUAT
Summary: A sweet, fluffy one shot I wrote for Kelli Burris' birthday present.


For kellyburris7: Happy Birthday!

A Time To Remember

He was nervous. No, he was beyond nervous and well into the preparing to bolt for the bathroom nausea stage because he felt like such an idiot. Surely the gods had never intended for him to do this. Then again, he was just about out of options. It was love that made him move forward. Absolutely nothing else would allow for him to do this.

When he walked in to the room, Belle was awake. Of course she was. She couldn't be sleeping for this, that would just be too easy. She eyed him warily. Over the past weeks he had been here when she woke, every single day, without fail. He thought that perhaps her subconscious mind would provide her with a dream, or image, something that would remind her that he loved her. That they loved one another. Anything ...just to have her look on him and know who he was, even if she wasn't quite sure why, he would settle for that. So far ...nothing. Her sparkling blue eyes remained blank when they looked on him, and although she had become friendlier, he was going to assume that being nice to a man sitting vigil at your side lent to her if not acceptance, at least tolerance of his presence. It was late, after three in the morning. "You should be sleeping," he said softly, taking his seat across the room as he generally did.

"You know you don't have to come here every day, right? I am not insane." She sounded almost irritated; frustrated. She remembered nothing ...no name, no life, just a small, cramped cell under the hospital. A place they had tried to return her to, and failed, miserably; mostly due to him and several well placed threats.

"Belle, I don't come here because I think you're insane. I've told you this." He knew his voice sounded frustrated and he couldn't help it. He needed her to remember so badly it was a physical pain in his heart.

She sighed. "It's been a long day. I don't mean to snap at you."

He smiled at her. "I know it's hard not to remember. It'll come back to you."

She clearly didn't want to discuss it because she focused on what he was carrying. She had to be truly distracted to have missed the giant tome he was holding. "Did you bring me a book?"

Gold cleared his throat. "I thought ...maybe ..." he had no idea how to go about asking this. What if she said no? "Will you let me read you a story? I know you must be exhausted; so I'll do the work and you can just listen."

To his genuine surprise, her face brightened. "That would be ...thank you Mr. Gold, that would really be nice."

He flinched at the name, but his heart started beating faster. He stood and walked across the room toward her. She started to look a little skittish, but when he dragged the chair with him, she settled. He pulled the covers up to her chin and sat down at her bedside. "Close your eyes; sleep." He opened the book on his lap and she relaxed back into her pillows and closed her eyes, letting his soft, raspy, gently accented voice wash over her.

"Once upon a time in a far away land, a young prince lived in a shining castle. Although he had everything his heart desired the prince was spoiled, selfish and unkind and then one winter's night an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances for beauty was found within."

He looked up and saw her sigh deeply, her breathing starting to even out. He kept reading ...it was actually not a story he'd read before and he found himself quickly pulled in to the words.

"And when he dismissed her again the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize but it was too late for she had seen that there was no love in his heart. And as punishment she transformed him into a hideous beast and placed a powerful spell on the castle."

Gold paused again to glance up. Belle was sleeping, her breathing steady. He continued on, describing the sacrifice a young girl made to save her father, to live all of her days with this horrible beast, her tears, her loss at losing her father and her life.

He remembered so clearly the day Belle had come to the Dark Castle. He had intimidated her, thrown her in a dungeon, taunted her, made her fear him and yet ...something inside his dark and corrupted soul had grown weary of the terror he caused in everyone. He remembered the day she dropped the cup. Although the cup itself, the physical vessel, was in shards, it was clear in his memory and he realized that he didn't have to hold it to remember what it stood for. It had started as fear, and when he'd assured her it was simply a cup, it had become something so much more. When he lost her, it had been his way of keeping the love in his soul alive, for he had no doubt that he could never love anyone else. There would be no other. But she was here now, alive and well, and while she did not remember him, he had lost sight of that fact. She had been dead. Gone forever. How many men were given a gift such as this?

He reached the part in the story when Belle realized she loved the Beast and her tears fell, transforming him into a prince. He sighed. She had kissed him, given him her love and instead of transforming him into a prince he had been horrible to her, the very Beast of which the story spoke. He sent her away, allowed her to get captured ...gods, this was entirely his fault. His eyes filled with tears. This was ridiculous. It was never going to work. He closed the book and stood quietly. He needed to take a walk ...this had been his last hope. Gold reached down and brushed a strand of hair from her forehead gently. "At least I was with you one last time." He turned and walked toward the door.

"Rumplestiltskin." It was soft, whispered, but …he froze. He didn't dare turn around, clearly he was hearing things. "Please don't leave me."

Gold turned, slowly, she must be dreaming. When he managed to look, her clear blue eyes were open, looking at him, taking him in, and there it was; it shone out from inside her ...the thing he had dreamed of every day since she had said the word 'forever.'

Love.


End file.
